


you have your secrets, i have mine

by drifterlovemail



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, a brief mention that drifter really wants to rail osiris, baked goods as a way to flirt, could-be-happy-if-drifter-wasnt-an-idiot: a series, feeding each other chocolate, some fun with solar heat, thinking about how vance had a more mysterious characterization in d1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifterlovemail/pseuds/drifterlovemail
Summary: “Quit it.” Drifter snaps quick, and takes the best baked good in the box and hands it to him. “I am eating them, you know.”Vance laughs, but it’s seemingly meant for himself. His hand drops away from the box and goes to take his own. He looks fake, Drifter thinks. Like one of Osiris’ weird reflections instead of walking and breathing. The impression is exactly what Vance wants to give. What impression Drifter’s given, he can’t really tell anymore. So he decides on starting a new one. Vance’s hand is kept in his as he begins to dig through the box with the other.“This planet is miserable.” He states, blunt as he can.“ — And I am devoted.”For Vance, it is as easy to say as breathing. So Drifter remains cautious in his movements, moving hip to hip with Vance but ever watching./It's the Dawning, and Vance takes care of those he finds walking through Mercury. Drifter happens to be there on a constant basis for the Sundial.
Relationships: Brother Vance/The Drifter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	you have your secrets, i have mine

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this tweet: https://twitter.com/vexmilkman/status/1207001536422989824
> 
> this was meant to be an impulse insp fic done in an hour that would hit MAYBE 1k words but its been 2 days and its almost thrice that and i cannot look at it more. this was a joke and now im invested in this and im so pissed off about it. elyse is waiting to guillotine me as i type

Drifter stopped wondering how Osiris managed to get himself exiled. The pinnacle of Mercury as a planet is the Sundial that Osiris has created — left the gate open to Drifter. But Drifter looks to the pyramids that scatter the center of Mercury, and he wants to tear them to pieces. Take the mechanics behind every Vex gate and put portals through the Derelict, see what he can make from a Vex arm. He’s sure his Dredgens would love some geysers of radiolaria between them and their motes.   
He takes his time in Mercury. His visits are long because the days are never ending — and the large swaths of desert don’t make it feel any faster. Fuck, the heat doesn’t either. So Drifter takes his sweet time, stabs a few goblins, looks around the gate to the Infinite Forest and never enters. Not yet. That’s a whole other level of recklessness for him to step into. Drifter only trusts Osiris as far as he can throw him.

“You look lost.”  
  
Drifter turns around quick as light, Malfeasance in his hand as soon as he can manage. Almost as immediately does he notice the guy doesn’t have any weapons on him at all, or see him pull his. It’s a sickening yellow he’s got on.  
  
“Anything but.” Drifter says, lying.  
  
The man seems to have an assumption about him already, and Drifter isn’t about to add anything to his knowledge.   
  
“Brother Vance, Follower of Osiris.” The man tells him, and gives a bow. I’ve seen you coming to and from the desert lately. Here.”  
  
Vance pulls a box from behind him and in it sits a variety of cookies and chocolates. One of them is shaped like a Vex cyclops. They’re wonderfully done, if Drifter’s being honest with himself. He plucks a small piece of chocolate from the box, and studies it carefully. It’s been…thirty years since he’d had any chocolate? But he’s not going to start now, from some stranger in the desert.  
  
“Follower of Osiris, huh?” Drifter says, and drops the chocolate back into the box.  
  
Vance frowns and sets it down. “I’ve seen you wandering. Mercury grows rather miserable to travel after a little while. It is a holiday, after all.”  
Drifter looks down into the box. Some of the pastries are dotted with snowflake designs and some cookies are shaped like trees. Ah, damn. He hates the Dawning.   
He knows the Followers of Osiris; It’s been a long time since he knew their whereabouts and their members, but he’s made it his business. Figures that Osiris would attract some nutjobs. They always find their own. He risks enough to take one of the chocolate pieces again and pop it in his mouth. Unfortunately, it’s delicious and has caramel in the middle. Even worse, Jiji crawls out from his coat and nods at him to confirm it isn’t poisonous. Just straight kindness.   
  
“I can hardly imagine what brings one such as yourself to Mercury to begin with. But that’s for Osiris to know.”   
Drifter raises a brow. “Like myself?”  
“A drifter.”  
  
Oh, oh. Drifter doesn’t like that. But Brother Vance steps beside him and seems to hold no fear of him. That’s either very good or very bad.   
  
“I have heard of you from the City - from The Young Wolf. Not much more.”  
  
Drifter looks down through Vance’s layers of robes and can’t see anything resembling even the outline of a weapon. Somehow it doesn’t make him feel much better for now.  
  
“You know I know him? Osiris, that is.” Drifter says, and pops another chocolate in his mouth.  
  
Vance carries himself steady, but grows more tense at the mention of him. He takes a chocolate from the box as well, unwraps it carefully as he speaks.  
  
“I can never fully say what Osiris will or will not present me with. My prophecies cannot be true all the time. But Mercury is my charge to take care of and whoever walks upon it. Vex excluded. If you know him, you are worthy to know him and be known.” He tells Drifter, and smiles again. “I continue to hope for such a place.”  
  
Drifter has never been able to worship anything he can or can’t see. If he could worship the Traveler, most of his life would be easier. The life of everyone else he’s ever met too, probably. There’s no empathy he can share in what Vance says. What he does know is that Osiris isn’t anywhere near the worship. Vance searches around the box for something specific, he seems, and Drifter only breaks the silence to take his hand.  
  
“Quit it.” Drifter snaps quick, and takes the best baked good in the box and hands it to him. “I am eating them, you know.”  
  
Vance laughs, but it’s seemingly meant for himself. His hand drops away from the box and goes to take his own. He looks fake, Drifter thinks. Like one of Osiris’ weird reflections instead of walking and breathing. The impression is exactly what Vance wants to give. What impression Drifter’s given, he can’t really tell anymore. So he decides on starting a new one. Vance’s hand is kept in his as he begins to dig through the box with the other.   
  
“This planet is miserable.” He states, blunt as he can.  
  
“ — And I am devoted.”  
  
For Vance, it is as easy to say as breathing. So Drifter remains cautious in his movements, moving hip to hip with Vance but ever watching.   
  
“You hide all the way up here, with the Vex in your backyard? Seems risky?” he asks, sincere. The Vex have shredded him up on his own enough times.  
  
“I don’t possess the Light, but I walk under Osiris’ gaze. If I die, I am meant to.” Vance tells him.Besides, the Vex cannot reach up here. I’ve made sure.”   
  
A smile breaks out across Vance’s face again.  
  
Usually, Drifter can read people. Even without reading one’s eyes he can read the tension in their stance or the movement in their hands, know when they’re about to draw and when they’re frightened. Vance is only calm, and stands relaxed in the face of the hissing Vex below them. But then he throws off Drifter’s train of thought once again.  
  
“Do you believe in your Traveler, guardian? Do you believe she sees even the darkest corners of the world?”   
  
No is Drifter’s immediate answer. He trusts the Traveler less than the Vanguard, or Dredgen Yor himself. People have motives and desires. Through centuries of Light he doesn’t know what motive the Traveler could have for having them maul each other.   
  
“Ask the Fallen.” Drifter says, and begins to poke his fingers into the spokes of the Vex gate. “Chased the Traveler to hell and back to get back that Light.”  
  
“That isn’t an answer.”  
  
“And you aren’t gonna get me to believe in your man.”  
  
“Then why do you return?”  
  
Of course, Drifter doesn’t tell Vance about the Sundial, or how Osiris is content breaking the world apart with it. He especially doesn’t mention how he’s trying to beat Osiris to it. There’s a level of empathy here, or he’d probably run. Once or twice he got close to believing things the Shadows told him and had to burn that from himself before he fell in the same hole as Bane. But Vance sees through him, analyzing Drifter in every way that Drifter can’t read from him.  
  
“You wouldn’t even have Osiris without the Traveler.” Drifter says, and it’s all he can come up with.   
  
Vance takes Drifter’s jaw between his thumb and finger, learns the edge before his grip softens.   
  
“Osiris is not made himself by the Light. None of you are. Neither he nor the Traveler can see every place, but Osiris searches the world and lights his path.” Vance tells him. “Each person needs something to believe in.”  
  
Drifter doesn’t like to be touched. Even less does he like being caught off guard, but freezes under Vance’s hand long past his fight or flight instinct. Vance has drawn him quiet, and doesn’t realize what an accomplishment it is.   
Drifter pulls Vance’s hand from his face and presses a kiss to his knuckles. He hasn’t done that in…well, Vance is breaking records for him today. He keeps a hold of Vance’s hand until he presses a kiss to Vance’s cheek and savors how he tenses up under the touch. He pulls his hand up to stroke at Vance’s cheekbone and Vance relaxes under him again, and sighs into Drifter’s kiss.  
  
“There you go.” Drifter whispers.  
  
This is easy to him. Guardians are ridiculous and bold — but mortals, mortals are all the dumber. They give little thought to the one life that they have. Vance is soft, and his mouth tastes of the chocolates, and Drifter eases into it safe not out of trust but knowing the one with the gun is the one that comes back from the dead. Even if this is some sort of power play from Osiris, it would only make a point. Drifter imagines it for a second — _I fucked your disciple,_ he tells him, and Osiris pauses.  
  
Not that that’s even in his top twenty suspicions. Osiris is too foolhardy to think so far, and nowhere near that cautious.  
  
So he pulls Vance to the side of the gate, slow so he can follow. But Vance is one step ahead of him, shoving Drifter hard and quick into the gate. The world starts ringing when Drifter falls back into the floor of the Lighthouse. A certain level of spite overrides the pain when Vance walks through calm and nice, box of baked goods in hand.   
  
“Apologies,” Vance says, and offers a hand. “I believed you would catch your fall.”  
  
Drifter takes the lift up, and groans. “Gonna give me a fuckin’ concussion like that.”  
  
There’s a comment to make about prophecies in this, but Drifter swallows it. If nothing else, the Lighthouse is a distraction. Every part of it sparkles with a light from a different source. The candles, the trinkets, the altar they lay on. Vance doesn’t seem to realize how much processing entering his home entails, as he strides calmly to the corner and pulls another tray of sweets.  
  
“Take as much as you like.” Vance tells him. Then, noticing Drifter’s silence, elaborates. “I bake in the times Osiris is silent and the Forge lies unused.”  
  
Drifter looks to the Forge, and leaves the cookies behind him. It stands tall, glowing, with glowing eyes on the wall behind it. There’s a glow in his eye when he turns back to Vance.  
  
“And what happens when it gets used, brother? What can this thing make up?”  
  
Vance doesn’t need to see Drifter’s face to know what he wants. He sounds like a kid given a gift, and in a way Vance understands it. It doesn’t mean he cares.  
  
“It creates weapons for Osiris’ followers until Osiris himself desires them.” he says, as casual as dinner conversation.  
  
“Your prophecies say if you’re gonna let me get at any?”  
  
Vance smiles.  
“You won’t.”  
  
Vance draws a closer impression to a snake than a mouse the more they speak, and it earns Drifter’s admiration, if not respect. The Forge and Drifter’s dreams of it will remain but Drifter himself will not. So Vance pulls him close again, wraps his hands up in the cord of his necklace to keep him in place.   
  
“Trying to distract me from all you’ve got goin’ in back there?” Drifter says, though he follows Vance’s leash easy.  
  
Vance doesn’t justify him with a reply, and only kisses him. Drifter turns into Vance in kind, lets his hands tug at his necklace until he can’t be closer. There’s trust here, if in the strangest way; They both carry their secrets behind them, and admit to having them, but let them lie. There’s no knife in the dark here because they both know neither of them care enough to pry.  
  
Vance doesn’t, anyway. Drifter always has questions.

Drifter presses a hand hard on Vance’s chest until he lets him go, and leaves another kiss to compensate for it.  
  
“C’mon.” Drifter whispers.  
  
Drifter wraps his hand up in Vance’s to keep him from tripping, and finds he doesn’t need it. Vance follows him across the Lighthouse easier than Drifter can find his own way through the Derelict. Another reminder to Drifter: _You are out of your element._  
  
Drifter drags Vance over to a chair, which isn’t hard to decide, as he finds there's only one. Shouldn’t this guy be expecting visitors? Some throne meant for Osiris at least? Drifter’s always wanted to fuck in a throne.  
  
Drifter sits back in the chair, and Vance follows suit into his lap, leans into Drifter’s hands on his hip. It’s nice to kiss Brother Vance, Drifter determines, realizing how they both melt into the touch. Vance can tell Drifter spends his time running - however figuratively, and whoever from. Still, Drifter relaxes under his hands slipping under his shirt, even if a few walls of defense remain. But Drifter always wants to push further. He kisses Vance harder, bites at his lip, only for Vance to shy off and away. Fine, Drifter determines. Second option it is.  
  
“Stay still.” He tells him, makes himself sound soothing for the sake of comfort.  
  
Vance has always waited in silence, and only kisses Drifter quick to keep him going. Solar heat pushes up to Drifter’s hand, and only when he finds the balance in it does he put it against Vance’s cheek. Like a kitten, Vance pushes himself into it. He only holds onto Drifter’s shoulder when Drifter’s hand moves to the cords of his robes and heat up against his sides.   
  
Vance pulls himself together enough to get one of the chocolates he’d left inside the Lighthouse. Drifter lets Vance push it into his mouth and leans to kiss his fingers after, and for a moment he starts to wonder how wild Vance would go if Osiris were along for the ride.  
  
“Easy, easy.” Drifter splays his hands out against Vance’s ribs and lets the heat rack up further until he shakes. “Relax into it, choir boy.”

After, Drifter stays. He’s in no rush to flee back out into the desert or deal with Jiji’s judgment on the ship. Vance relaxes in Drifter’s lap and stays too quiet for Drifter not to get tired. But Drifter drags Vance’s robes up from the ground and pulls it over them. They stay that way for awhile, and though Drifter can’t tell how long anything goes on on Mercury, it’s too long. Every once in awhile Vance will pop another chocolate into his mouth, and Drifter will kiss him in kind. It’s still nice, and he can’t stand it.   
  
“I know that you have dealt with the Nine.” Vance finally says. “The Nine are vulnerable when they bring themselves to us. It is not the same in reverse.”   
  
“You don’t need to know anything about who I’ve dealt with.” Drifter says, instinctively, but there’s no further bite to have the last word.  
  
Drifter has his secrets, and Vance has his own. Drifter would’ve preferred to ignore them on both sides. But Vance watches with as many eyes as the one he worships. Instead he shifts his gaze away from Vance and stares at the Forge over his shoulder. Vance takes ones of Drifter’s hands, splays their palms together. It’s admirable to watch the gears in his head shift as he starts studying Drifter bit by bit. Vance continues, unphased, and brings Drifter’s fingers to kiss. Drifter probably wouldn’t have let him if he hadn’t been thrown so off guard.   
  
A warning, and not a threat. Somehow it’s annoying to think that Vance is just being…nice.  
  
“There are things in this world even Osiris hasn’t seen, and so he searches. Take care that you don’t get lost when you do the same.”  
  
Vance kisses him, and remains with no idea what an achievement it is to strike the Drifter silent.   
  
But Drifter returns to Mercury, to Osiris, and he returns to the Lighthouse.


End file.
